


A Day in Heaven

by DrimmsyDra



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Australia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 06:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrimmsyDra/pseuds/DrimmsyDra
Summary: One day of the Team's vacation from Murdock's point of view





	A Day in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> In the beginning, it was supposed to be just a light relaxing story, but Murdock showed me again that where light was, there was also dark. And every day has its night.  
> I think about the story like a pre-show - the Team works already, but Murdock is still struggling with his demons.
> 
> Oh yes, and there is someone's death. But... it depends on you how much seriously you will take it. And if it is a death at all.

I woke up before sunrise. The birds were beginning to sing as the dark slowly faded. I stretched out and sighed happily. Another day of a little vacation was ahead. Only two days left before we had to go back to the States, home to LA. We were in Australia now. After a successful mission we got the opportunity to spend a few days in a small house on the periphery of Sydney, and since the last months were rough, we took it.

I love Australia. Leaving aside the fact that almost every Australian animal tries to kill you - even a cute platypus is poisonous, and you definitely don't want to know what BA did when he saw a snake on our terrace yesterday and how loudly Face yelled when he found himself face to face with a huge spider (which paradoxically didn't belong to a flock of poisonous ones) - Australian fauna is fascinating. Birds sound very different than those at home; the Australian magpie plays the flute, the raven miaows like a strange cat, but the best of all is kookaburra with its funny laugh. BA keeps saying that bird is as crazy as me. Maybe it is. But I say it's better to laugh than to cry, isn't it?

Yeah, right now they are laughing, I can hear them through the window. It's great to start every day with a laugh. Or with a happy howl. Sharing their opinion, I jumped out of bed and howled loudly.

"You crazy fool!"

Before I could turn and face the owner of that angry voice, my head was hit by a pillow thrown across the room.

"Oh… good morning, Big Guy!" I sang out cheerily.

A dark silhouette rose on the other bed and pointed its fist at me.

"Shut up, fool! Or the next thing I throw across this room gonna be you."

"You wouldn't do that!" I opposed, betting on our friendship. But his eyes flashed angrily in the morning gloom, more eloquent than any verbal answer. "You would do that," I realized and with my hands up, I began to move backwards to the door. As he saw me voluntarily and silently leaving our bedroom, he just growled and buried himself in the remaining pillow.

I walked out to the terrace and took a deep breath. The morning air was full of nice eucalyptus scent and because it was raining at night, the smell was even stronger. Sydney, though it is a big city on the coast just like LA, smells completely different. More healthy and fresh. Its aroma makes you smile and rejoice in the smallest things; like the first hesitant sunbeam that tickled my nose. Or another long laugh of the kookaburra and loud chattering of the rainbow lorikeets. This sound can be a bit annoying in the morning peace, but you can't be angry at these beautiful fellas. They look like crayons scattered among the leaves of the trees.

Actually, I can understand them; the urge to shout with joy and relief that the dark night is over and the sun is shining again, and the good old world is still moving on.

I had to suppress another howl that was forming in my throat. I didn't want to wake the others. Maybe Hannibal was already awake, but certainly enjoying a sweet idleness. Inside my head, I could clearly see him sitting on his bed and smoking a cigar, his eyes narrowed with delight that he didn't have to jump out of bed right after waking up. It would take only a few days and he would get bored here, but two or three mornings like this were a blessing and I didn't plan to disturb his private moment with the first morning cigar.

Another loud laughter cut my thoughts. The little feathered fella settled on the railing of our terrace. He was watching me with roguish eyes, probably searching for something suitable for breakfast. It reminded me that I was hungry too and my belly agreed loudly. Yet I allowed myself to enjoy another brief contemplation… the sun was now pouring gold on the landscape in front of me and the breeze blowing gently from the ocean was carrying strong scents of water and salt and flowers and trees, it was almost stunning. I caught hold of the railing and closed my eyes breathing deeply. I like mornings. They are full of hope and light. They are good and safe. At least the mornings like this one.

 

~~~

 

I could feel the soft warm sand under my bare feet as I walked along the beach looking for some shells and pebbles to decorate the sandcastle I was building. I already had my pockets full of those tiny sea gems, but it was nice to just walk around on a sunny day with the ocean washing my ankles. I lifted my head and looked at the place occupied by the rest of the Team.

Hannibal was sitting on a beach chair with a never missing cigar between his lips, reading one of his crime books. I know he is a passionate reader, but he never reads any book during our missions, only newspapers. He saves this pleasure for quiet peaceful moments. Just like this one.

BA settled a little further and was polishing his gold. I've been always amazed to see how those thick strong fingers of him could deal with such subtle things. As a mechanic, he has very sensitive fingers and knows their strength perfectly. He also knows how to use it and when to keep it aside. He could break your skull with only one punch, but he's able to polish the finest gold necklace with no damage too. Yeah, our big caring teddy bear.

Face was the only one lounged in the sun. Hannibal and BA both sat in the shade but Faceman exposed his body to the hot sunlight, absorbing all the heat he could. LA's winter wasn't too cold, but Templeton Peck loved warm sunny weather and was determined to enjoy the beginning of the Australian summer, while the winter has been expanding on his home hemisphere. His hair, lightened by the California sun, was given an even lighter shade. Now, Face was a real blond. His face was partly covered with expensive sunglasses, but I could tell the expression under it was calm and content. A spontaneous smile appeared on my lips. I just had a very rare picture in front of me.

I wish I could have a camera right now to save this moment forever. But the photo would look too ordinary, nothing special in it. No, perhaps only a very good painter could depict what is hidden in this scene. Relaxation. Peace. Long unrecognized feeling that we are safe, not followed by anyone. No chasing. No shooting at our heads. No fear. No rage. No despair.

There is nothing stable in the lives of these tree men except for being on the run. Nothing long planned. No permanent home. And I know they feel the lack of it.

Face longs for home because he has never had one. BA has his momma in Chicago, and I know he feels frustrated that he's not allowed to visit her even for the holidays. And Hannibal… I honestly have no idea what he wants and dreams about. It often seems he's enjoying life on the run. But I'm sure he's worried about us, about our fates. Including mine. But I'm fine. I have my home. Okay, maybe not the real one, but I have my own room that I don't have to leave or change every month. I get regular meals without making any effort to have them. Sure, there had been times when I hadn't wanted to live in the VA. I hadn't understood they were helping me. I hadn't been able to understand because I hadn't known where I was and why. My mind had remained in 'Nam, most likely in a POW camp, and every person had been an enemy in my twisted vision. But as soon as I began to recognize reality among my living memories, nightmares and imaginations, I learned how to live in a psychiatric hospital. And I learned to like it. Sometimes.

But these men don't even have the little I do. And every moment like this is a true treasure. This place is like heaven. It would be nice to stay here, leave Lynch and MPs and the government behind. Except that you can't live in heaven unless you're dead. Or you're an angel. And we're not dead, thank God. And we're not angels either. We can't be, though some people see us like that. Our wings would be too black and heavy to bring us to such a bright and high place. No, we really can't stay here in heaven.

In an effort to imprint in my memory as much as possible, I scanned every detail inhaling all the smells around and feeling every grain of sand while I slowly walked back to them.

I wanted to remember the pure happiness I felt on that Australian beach one afternoon in early December.

"Face?" I said as I reached the place where he was lying.

"Hmm?" He tried to sound disgruntled, indicating that he didn't want to be disturbed. But it was a false tone. I couldn't see his eyes through his shades, but I was sure he didn't mind me talking to him. Maybe he was getting bored already.

"Just been thinking… with your refined taste and attention to details, would you help me decorate my castle?"

"Help to decorate your castle?" He asked in a way saying, 'Are you serious?' and turned his head to me.

I didn't get discouraged. It wasn't a disruption to his relaxation. I was sure he would enjoy this holiday activity with me. He just kept his appearance because guys like him never build sandcastles, not to mention shell decorating. But he wanted to. I sensed he wanted to do it so badly. It was something so simple and carefree, something he was supposed to do as a child with his parents every summer weekend, but he never did. I could give it to him. Because I was a childish loony and you can't simply refuse a poor crazy fool.

"Yup," I said and pointed to my sandy construction, "It's just over there, you see?"

There was a necessary hesitation and a long heavy sigh before he said, "Okay, if it makes you happy."

And it did. He worked on my castle with me for over an hour and when I saw him enjoying building new towers and placing shells on them, I couldn't be happier.

 

~~~

 

"Man, have to do it right now? Need more space here and you're obstructing." BA grunted and with his shoulder, he shoved me away from the kitchen counter. He was preparing meat for burgers and some steaks and although the kitchen island was long, the space was clearly not enough to satisfy him.

"I'm sorry, Big Guy. But I promised Faceman to make a salad for dinner." I took a brave step back to him and reached for freshly washed vegetables.

"Salad?" He wrinkled his nose. "Who eats things like that when there's meat."

"Actually, I do. I like vegetables. Look at these bell peppers," I picked up one green and one red pepper, the yellow one was left on the chopping board for lack of hands, "you see the colors? It's nice, isn't it? They could give your burgers more color, ya know." I shoved the peppers under his nose.

BA smacked me over my hands causing the red pepper to fall to the ground. "Don't need no color, fool! Burger is burger. It's food, no stupid artwork."

"But food can be an artwork, BA. What about Jack-o'-lantern, huh?"

"Ain't no food, it's a Halloween lantern."

"But it's from a pumpkin and you can eat pumpkins. You like pumpkin pie, don't ya?"

He answered with a single loud growl. So, I continued. "Or what about cakes? Especially wedding cakes, they are pieces of art sometimes. Or Vertumnus!" I remarked triumphantly. "You know the painting by Giuseppe Arcimboldo? The one showing Rudolf II as Vertumnus, the guy made from fruits and veggies? It's the real artwork!"

"But it ain't food!"

"It could be if you made it of real ingredients." I began to think about it, looking at all the vegetables on the kitchen counter. I already saw the fabulous masterpiece inside my mind I could create from all the groceries we had.

"No! You don't even think about it, Murdock!" He said warningly and before I could stop him, he stamped on the red pepper lying on the floor. The crack brought me back to reality. It could be my foot. Or my head. No, BA wouldn't do this. He doesn't look like he does but I know he likes me. More or less… but still, the red remains were a proof of his bad attitude.

"You killed him!" I yelled at the big man. "You killed that little red fella who was determined to lay down his life to fill our hungry stomachs! How could you dare, you Ugly Mudsucker?!"

"Shut up, fool! It was just vegetable! Nothin' more!"

"No, he was a volunteer from the Salvation Vegetable Army, and you killed him right in front of his comrades. Such a useless death! How these two have to feel right now?" I pointed at the two remaining peppers sitting on the chopping board and then my hand moved toward the red spot on the floor. "How does his family feel?"

"Vegetable have no family!"

"How do you know? Have you ever been any kind of vegetable to claim it?"

"Your brain is cooked vegetable and if you don't shut up, I'll make a salad of you!"

"Guys!" Hannibal's gutsy voice came from the door, but we didn't turn there. We kept staring at each other, neither of us was willing to look away. "Could you quit it? We're on vacation."

Yeah, we were but what that poor little guy? Eventually, I decided to look at our Colonel, looking for help and understanding.

"He killed him, Hannibal!"

"Who?" The expression of the silver-haired man was serious, but his eyes glowed with curious interest.

"General Bell Pepper! He's dead!"

Hannibal's gaze slid to the floor and his eyes focused on the red remains of the poor general. Then he looked up at BA questioningly.

"Ain't my fault, Hannibal! He's jabberin' about vegetable army and families, he drives me crazy!"

"Vegetable army, Murdock?" Hannibal turned his head toward me.

"Yeah. The Salvation Vegetable Army. They fight against hunger and lay down their lives for feeding whole world," I explained. BA growled again as I finished the sentence and glanced at him with an accusing look. "And his needless death will have a detrimental impact on his little unit!" I added importantly.

"Oh… in that case," Hannibal began in a serious voice, "we should bury him with all the military honors."

"Aww, Hannibal, don't encourage him! He'll be even crazier than he is now!"

"BA, as a member of the United States Army, you shouldn't refuse to pay tribute to a fallen veteran."

"Ain't no veteran, it's vegetable!"

"Sergeant!" He barked to shut him up and turned toward me. "Murdock, will you make a funeral oration?"

"Sure, Colonel. Thank you. The General would appreciate it."

"Oh man," I heard BA sigh. But he said nothing more, just shook his head in quiet disapproval.

 

~~~

 

"And so, we honor the fallen brother, the brave warrior who fought against hunger and unpleasant."

I paused solemnly and glanced at the shallow hole dug on the tiny courtyard of the sandcastle I had built with Face's little help before. It was the best place I could find. I even placed the honor carrot guards at the gate to watch over the remains of the poor general. "Rest in peace, General Bell Pepper. You were a valiant man, a model for all of us." I said and gave him a perfect salute.

"A man? With all those shapes and that name Bell Pepper… it seems more like a woman to me." Face murmured somewhere behind me.

"Everything with some… umm… interesting shapes seems like a woman to you, Face," Hannibal replied softly trying to keep the decorum.

"Thanks, Hannibal. It's nice to see what you are thinking of me," Face grimaced but I turned to them to hush them both. They made a guilty face and bowed their heads in expressions of sadness and reverence.

I carefully placed a white pebble on the fresh grave. The sun was slowly going down, the ocean murmured its constant song and somewhere from afar, I could hear a magpie with its flute playing. It was a wonderful evening. The smell of the grilled meat gently stroked my nose and reminded me that BA was on the terrace preparing our dinner. He refused to join the funeral and I eventually accepted his excuse that someone had to prepare dinner so that the General didn't die in vain. After all, we must to go on.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned my head to its owner. It was Hannibal and he suggested it was time to go.

And later, as I sat on the terrace with two burgers and fresh salad in my belly, watching the hesitantly appearing stars and listening to a light conversation between Hannibal and Face, I sighed happily. I liked evenings like this. The darkness was in the wind, I could sense it, but it hadn't reached for me yet. I was still safe and together with my closest friends, the evenings aren't as dark as nights. I don't have to worry. Not yet.

 

~~~

 

But you can't escape the darkness. You can't hide from it, believe me, I know this very well. I tried it. I was hiding so perfectly that I got lost to myself. Yet the demons found me. They always do. Always find you. The moment you are alone and unarmed. Lying in the dark and waiting for sleep that doesn't come. And if it comes, it brings only nightmares. I don't know what's worse.

I clutched my blanket and tried to be as quiet as I could. I didn't want to wake BA. No, I wasn't afraid of his threats and curses, not this time. I knew BA cared for me, he just refused to show it. Repressing all craziness, he kept me on a sane path. His threats would now sound like a sweet song to my ears. I needed to hear them. But I didn't want to wake the big guy, he deserved his sleep.

I stuck my head under the pillow to silence the voices whispering in the dark. Counted to ten. Then to twenty. Fifty. As I got to six hundred, I felt myself getting sleepy. My body relaxed, the limbs became heavy and the mind drifted away slowly… And suddenly, there was a terrifying scream right inside my head. In a bright flash of a wild dream, I saw a crowd of soldiers. Their eyes were glaring angrily from the blood-covered faces, their arms reaching for me… I bit into the pillow to suffocate my own urge to yell and clenched my teeth into the fabric so hard my jaws hurt. My heart was pounding like a mad church bell, I was afraid it would burst through my rib cage with every next beat.

_I can't stay here. I just can't!_

I darted out of bed. Another scream tried to escape from my throat and was quickly choked by my fist pressed into my mouth. I stumbled to the door and away from the room trying to run away from my demons. But they were shouting all around, scrabbling everywhere with their claws, grabbing my hair and ankles… all the dead soldiers I had left in 'Nam, and whose souls couldn't find peace even after their death. Some of them had been my friends there. I had seen them die. Tried to save them, tried it so hard. But very often, I hadn't been able to fly fast enough. And occasionally, I hadn't been able to fly at all. I had killed some of them just because I hadn't been able to get them from that hell in time. Flying in that heavy humid air went pretty bad. Slow. Too slow…

Only the falls had been fast. Medevacs were so vulnerable with an absence of weapons pods. You couldn't choose a better target than an unarmed bird carrying wounded men. Sometimes, there were door gunners, but sometimes not. And every man who had died aboard my chopper chased me for my incompetence now. For my failure. I wanted to save them. All of them, really. I'm so sorry… I-

"Captain? Are you all right?"

Colonel's voice broke into my private madness and I realized I was hyperventilating. I held my breath for a few seconds to adjust the frantic frequency and looked around in confusion. I didn't remember coming to the kitchen and had no idea about how long I was sitting at the table.

"No. Yes. I don't… I…"

"Can't sleep?" Hannibal cut off my stuttering speech.

I nodded and blinked several times as he turned the light on.

"Bad dreams?" Another short question and another silent nod. My face could tell more than my uncooperative tongue. "Wanna cup of tea? I think I saw a lavender one somewhere, it's good for stress."

"It's Face's," I managed to say.

"I don't think he'll mind if we take a little."

Truth.

While Hannibal was preparing the tea, I watched him in silence. And when he handed me a mug of steaming aromatic liquid, I took it with deep gratitude. There were some methods in VA to dampen the intrusive voices and fight off nightmares, but it never was a friendly hand offering a cup of tea.

Hannibal took the seat on my right and I expected him to start asking some necessary questions, but he remained silent. He gave us comfort to sit quietly and sip hot tea. And I finally felt so relaxed that I started to speak myself.

"Colonel, have you ever done anything you regret? Or what has haunted you for a long time?"

"In general, or do you have anything specific in mind?" He asked with a casual tone but I could feel his crystal blue eyes digging into me.

"Well, I just can't get away from some things."

"Which things?"

"Some things from 'Nam. They're stuck to me like chewing gum to the shoe sole and I can't get them off. Can't run away from them."

"Stop running and live with them," he said. A simple piece of advice, but impossible to do.

"I can't." I couldn't say more, just these few words popped up in the air.

"You have to, Captain," he said gently.

God. How could I live with my demons for my whole life? I looked at him hopelessly. I knew Vietnam wasn't his first war. How could he handle it? He carried even larger luggage with him than I did.

Probably reading this question in my eyes, he started to speak.

"You know, all the things that happened to you have formed your personality. And it's good to work with them, with the good ones and with the bad ones too."

"I'd rather forget them. Forget it all." I said quietly, eyes fixed at the wooden table.

"It wouldn't bring anything good. You'd lose yourself," he put in.

"I already did," I sneered at him and added, "I'm a crazy man who's afraid of the dark."

"That's just a temporary state. It will get better."

"You think?"

"No, I don't. I know it," he said with unbreakable certainty. I would almost believe it. I tried to smile, but it wasn't a smile. It was a cramp.

"Are you a good man, Captain?"

"What?" I didn't understand the question.

"Are you a good man?"

What can I say? Am I? How do I know? I don't have the right to judge this. Because what exactly means to be a good man?

"I don't know."

"Come on." Hannibal shook his head.

"Really, how could I know? I can't judge myself, Colonel."

"Yes, you can. But if you need a help, let me do it. As your current commander, I think I can do it well."

I shrugged my shoulders staring at the table again.

"Okay, let's look at your life."

"You mean the one I'm living locked up in the psych ward?"

"Hmm… I think you've spent too much time with Face. You're getting sarcastic."

That was true. But I wouldn't say it's Face's fault.

Getting no answer, Hannibal continued his speech. "Look at you; you have lots of problems but keep helping your friends anyway. You even help strangers, risking your life for things that don't concern you."

"We all do that," I objected.

"Sure. And do you think the rest of us are good or bad people?"

What kind of question was that? Of course, they are good men.

"So, you see." He gave me a light smile. "With all the trouble, we could only take care of ourselves, but instead we help others. Doing what we decided to do a long time ago. Because we had done it before. Or didn't you risk your life for your country?"

"I just did what I thought was right. But…" I paused for a moment and then added softly, "I killed people."

"Yes, it was a war. People were killing people there," Hannibal nodded, and it seemed so simple and correct in his presentation. But…

"I took their lives," I repeated in different words. No one should take what doesn't belong to him. End what he didn't start.

"Did you like it?" Such an easy question. But the answer… I hesitated. There was something fascinating about having such power over life and death. Having someone's lives in my hands, deciding on them, changing situation, changing everything around… it was stirring, intoxicating, poisonous…

"No, I didn't." I hoped I didn't.

"There you are." Hannibal put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it lightly. I looked up at him. "The bad things can make you a good person. Just like the good ones can spoil people sometimes. You're a good man, Murdock. Don't forget your past, don't forget the bad of it, it's a part of you. And even if it hurts, it makes you stronger. Since 'Nam, you've come a long way to get where you are now, and you'll have to go even further, and it will be a difficult journey. But keep in mind where you started and be proud you ain't there anymore."

"I already forgot many things. My head decided to do it without asking me." I really had many blackouts. There were some parts of my life I couldn't recall. And probably never will. Because I didn't want to, no matter that Hannibal was right. "I don't want to remember all the dead. The ones I killed myself and the ones I couldn't save. I still see them dying in my chopper or in front of me when they couldn't get on board in time. I can hear their screams and moans. I can feel their blood. And I know I'm responsible for-"

"No, you are not," he said firmly. "No one can save all the people. You can't save the whole world, Captain, you gotta understand that."

I knew it, of course. But still… I was looking at him and suddenly I saw all those years that made a notch on his face. He was older than us but still doing and looking good. Actually, he was a very handsome man in perfect condition if I can assess it. Full of energy and humor overshadowing our difficult situation. Full of his Jazz. But in this moment, his eyes were old. They already saw enough bad things for another two lives.

Who was I to be so frightened and depressed? I was only a pilot. Yes, there was blood on my hands too but not as much as on his. He might drown in that red lake but he's sitting strong and stable beside me, determined to live with everything he saw and experienced, good and bad.

"Colonel?" I had to ask. "Do you see them?"

"Who?"

"The dead."

He was silent for a while. Seemed to be thinking. Maybe browsing his memory, maybe just putting his thoughts in the right words.

"I remember every man who died under my command. Many of them were just boys. I was their commanding officer, responsible for their actions. But I wasn't responsible for their death. Soldiers are dying and no commander can prevent it. I just tried to keep the number of the dead as low as possible. So yes, I can see them sometimes. And I'm still grieving for all of them.

And those from the other side I killed? There were too many to remember them all. But I'm sure I'll see them. One day, they'll come to collect the tax."

I wasn't sure if he was joking. A faint smile appeared on his lips, but his voice was firm and convincing like the expression of his eyes… oh, I don't think it was a joke.

His hand still resting on my shoulder squeezed a little harder.

"Live with the dead in peace, Captain. What has happened has happened and you are not responsible for their death. When you accept their shadows moving around you, your head will be lighter and your nights calmer."

"I'm not sure if I can do this," I said honestly.

"You can. One day, you can." He paused giving me one last squeeze and then smiled. "Let's try to catch some sleep."

I watched him rise from the chair and joined him. The urge to yawn broke my grim face and he nodded slightly. He knew I could sleep now. We both can. Tomorrow night, I might be scared again. Maybe I'll scream in my sleep with tears running down my cheeks. But not this night. This night was safe, all shadows and nightmares hidden in tightly closed cabinets and my Colonel has the key. This was a nice peaceful night… I almost liked it.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> And big thanks to my Australian friend for her grammatical suggestions and editing.  
> Thank you, mate. You're a great beta reader! And you know what? I really miss the smell of eucalyptus.


End file.
